Camp Spotlight

It was a cold, starry Thursday night when we made our way to the top of the hill covered with long hairy grass. Group one (Jihad) pick their spots between the dinning hall and the peak of the hill. In three sharp blows of the whistle, we were off and so was the deafening thunder and lighting. As we bolted down the hill the thunder rolled around us, we ducked as we saw a flash of a torch lay upon us. You could hear the names being called as people tried to figure out who you were in the dark, murky night. Arriving back at the supper room we had heard that only a few people made it, and everyone was battered and bruised. Then we heard the whistle blow again and we knew the game was over.
Lucy.H and Alice